Warmth
by Shoduna
Summary: She comes to him, the one spot of warmth in a cold world.


The apartment they've given him is nicer than the one he had before the crash. It is updated with countless amenities, needless appliances and conveniences that only serve to complicate his life. He is back at his old job, with a better salary, and can fly to any part of the world, first-class, whenever he wishes. Everything he dreamed about, good food, good wine, good company, he has it back and then some. Yet somehow, it is not enough.

Soon the high-rise ceilings of his penthouse are too constricting; the tie around his neck chokes all movement. He is not used to the feeling a razor against his cheeks, so he lets his beard grow out. The passersby ignore him, walking as far from him as possible, for he has lost weight, and the scruffy beard and dark circles beneath his eyes make him look like a man that should be feared. The others have all settled back into their old lives, but he, the one who championed escape the most, he cannot live with the changed world.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

At night, when he longs to see that stars, he drives his complimentary car out to the back of the airport. The sky is clearer there, so he can see some constellations. If he lies on his hood, and blocks out all the noise, he can almost pretend like he's back there again. Only until he inhales, and the pungent stench of garbage and metal inflames his nostrils. Then he closes his eyes, and takes a sip of Jim Bean, the only warmth in a cold world.

He's lying there one night, half the bottle gone, when headlights startle him. Spilling some prized liquor down his stubble, he falls off the car, shielding his eyes against the white light. A woman gets out of the car, and starts toward him, tentatively.

She stops when she sees his face, and her small mouth contorts into a cross between a grin and a frown. "You look terrible," she says, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

He takes in her appearance, the smooth hair and designer clothes. "You look beautiful."

"Oh Jack," she says, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "You always did know how to make a girl feel special."

He tries to smile, but his lips will only grimace. Suddenly, the noise of the departing planes is deafening, and his head threatens to split open. "What are you doing here, Kate?" he asks, massaging his temples with both thumbs.

She smiles, sadly, and steps closer. "I came to find you, Jack. We're all worried."

"Who's we?" he laughs, shaking his head. "No one's come looking for me in a very long time. I'm not the most desirable person anymore. No one back here needs a leader."

"I thought you didn't want to be a leader," Kate says, reaching out and taking one of his hands. Hers are small and soft, not blistered and red as he remembers.

He ponders this for a moment, suddenly at a loss for words. "I still don't want to be a leader, Kate. I want…"

She gazes up at him with big eyes. "What do you want, Jack?"

"I want to be free," he says, finally. He lifts his chin and nods, firmly, as if to reassure himself. "I don't want to be this guy… I hate my job, I hate my friends…"

She steps closer, so that the tips of her toes brush the front of his boots. He is suddenly aware of how close they are, but cannot move away. "You don't hate me, do you, Jack?"

"No," he whispers, leaning closer so that his mouth hovers just above hers. "I could never hate you."

"That's good."

"Very good," he agrees, and then freezes. "Where is Sawyer?"

She ducks her chin for a moment, and then looks back up at him, jaw set firmly. "Does it matter?"

He smiles then, because he knows it does not. Soon, he crushes his lips to hers, hard, trying desperately to feel something amidst the numb. She responds, eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Their kiss is neither gentle nor romantic; it is filled with fiery need and desire. For so long, they have been skirting around this attraction, and suddenly, it all seems too much to avoid. She opens her mouth and he explores her with his tongue, determined to memorize every cavern, should this be the last time he had this chance.

His eyes are all over, up and down her body, tracing crevices he's longed to touch. Her breasts, small and firm beneath his large hands, quiver as she breathes in, heavily. All of a sudden, their clothes are too much, too restricting and warm in the middle of November. She tugs off his jean jacket with eager hands, and he lifts her white sweater over her head. She begins to claw at her belt, but he moves her hands aside and takes up the task himself. He fingers the warm skin just above her waistband for a moment, enjoying the look of desire playing across her face. Soon she becomes impatient, and he eases the jeans off her legs. She does not wait; she rips off his pants in a single blow.

They stumble towards the car, Jack feeling behind him for the door handle. It jabs his back when she shoves him against the frame, and he opens it so they fall inside, onto the spacious backseat. For a moment, they laugh and then Jack stops, taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes are sparkling, like he hasn't seen them do in a very long time. Her long curly hair is cascading over her naked frame, and her perfection astounds him. He wants to touch her everywhere, to make love to each individual part of her body, because only then can he truly show her how much he cares. Yet his need is pressing, and so is hers, so he puts off his wish for another time, deciding to instead satisfy the desire at hand.

She leans down and kisses him, softer this time, but equally passionate. He moves his hands down the smooth skin of her back, until they rest on her hips while his thumbs trace lazy circles on the inside of her pelvic bone. The touch drives her wild, and she rubs against him like a polecat until he too is almost panting with lust.

He dips one hand down to cup her heat, enjoying the slick feeling of her wet core against his palm. She bucks against his hand, already oversensitive, a movement that causes his cock to twitch with anticipation. At the sight, her eyes glint almost manically and she adjusts so her entrance is hovering just above him, a tantalizing reminder of what is to come.

At this point he can no longer control himself, and so bucks his hips up to meet hers. She avoids him, opting instead to hold him down and lower herself torturously slowly onto him, centimeter by centimeter. He loses it almost before he's fully in, and even then has to take a moment and count backwards from ten to control himself. Then, they begin to rock, slowly, back and forth.

Their pace increases rapidly, and he is biting at her neck and her breasts, sucking on a swollen nipple. Her hands room all over his body, one caressing his bicep and the other rubbing the inside of his leg. They move faster and faster until it is almost too much, her back comes close to hitting the top of the car. They move together until they both throw their heads back and scream the other's name, raw with unbridled passion.

Then they collapse into each other's arms, lying that way until morning. When he wakes he is still inside of her, and her sweet presence has calmed him, become the one spot of warmth amidst a sea of cold.


End file.
